


Déjà rêvé

by trionfi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Death In Dream, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Spoilers, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 00:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trionfi/pseuds/trionfi
Summary: Byleth has nightmares from a time before. Its the one thing she desires help for.





	Déjà rêvé

Jeralt did not expect to see his six-year-old daughter awake in the middle of the night, sitting with the other mercenaries on night watch. And yet, here she is.

“What are you doing up, kid? It’s the middle of the night.” Byleth doesn’t say anything back, just looking at her feet. Jeralt gives a questioning eyebrow to the others sitting around the fire.

“She’s been sitting out here every night for a while… yes, we tried to get her to go to bed. She always refuses.”

Jeralt just shakes his head, before sitting next to his daughter.

“Something been keeping you awake?” He asks and knows he might not get an answer. Byleth tends to keep everything bottled up, which makes caring for her an uphill battle. But, by the Goddess, he tries anyway.

“We could always give her some ale. My mum always used to do that when me and my brothers wouldn’t sleep.” Jeralt just glares at the suggestion and waits to see if Byleth responds to his question.

“…don’t like it.” Is the response he gets back after a few minutes.

“Don’t like what? Sleeping?” Byleth nods. “And why is that?”

Byleth seems hesitant to answer. As usual, her face is blank, but her eyes betray what she might be feeling.

“Promise I won’t laugh, even if it’s a silly reason.”

“…’s not silly.” Byleth says back, before yawning. Jeralt can feel a yawn coming on as well, but he suppresses it, he wants to hear Byleth’s answer.

“I died,” is certainly not the answer he, nor anyone else seated around this fire expected to come from this child. Everyone is silent, unsure of how to go forward.

“What ya mean, kid?” Jeralt breaks the silence, wanting to what his strange child is thinking.

“I was really tired, so I slept for a really long time,” she starts with. “And then he cut me up, so I died.”

“Who cut you up?” Jeralt cannot even begin to process what Byleth is telling him. Perhaps a bad nightmare? What kind of nightmare could this be, though?

“A bad man.”

“Do you know who this bad man is?” Byleth shakes her head.

“The bad man made me cut them up. And I couldn’t stop him.”

“Who is ‘them’?”

“My children.”

Those sitting around the fire are silent. Byleth is a strange child, but she does not lie. She is extremely blunt about nearly everything. So, for her to be telling this story, she must believe that its true. Jeralt is unsure of what to do (as he commonly is with Byleth), but he gently picks her up from where she is sitting. She clings to his tunic.

“Well kid, as long as I’m here, no one is gonna kill you in your sleep.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

\-------

\-------

\-------

“Run, please run!” She wants to scream, to plead, but her mouth does not work. A weapon does not speak. It simply kills.

Felix is the first to fall. He has the Aegis Shield, but the Sword of the Creator cares not. The long spine of it curls around his shield, piercing him through the back. Mercedes rushes to try to aid him, to heal his wound, but the act is futile, and she is the next to fall.

The others have quickly realized that this is not a foe to be trifled with, with two having already been cut down. Annette and Hilda both come at the attacker, axes in hand, but the spine of the Sword of the Creator cuts an arc, blocking both of their blows. They are not killed yet, and the attacker much next guard themselves from both Catherine and Claude, then soon Sylvain and Ingrid. The six versus one battle soon becomes seven versus one, with magic from Lysithea soon raining down on the attacker. The strategy seemed to have been to keep the attacker in one place while Lysithea readied her spell.

She would have given praise to their strategy if she could have, if she didn’t already know how this battle was going to end. Smoke and dust from the spell clear, to reveal the long spine of the Sword of Creator quickly coiling around the attacker, shielding them from the blow. The spine then shoots forward, piercing Lysithea, before arching back, taking Sylvain and Ingrid with it. Slicing them in two with Lysithea dragged along. The spine retracts, and the attacker simply kicks Lysithea when she comes with it, removing her body from the blade.

This leaves the other four on the defensive. It is clear directly attacking this foe will not work. Magic and arrows come at the attacker, quickly deflected, and Hilda is the next to fall when she tries to attack during the volley. She is pierced like Lysithea, for the Sword of the Creator’s spine will go any direction its wielder desires, not hindered by the normal stiffness of a blade.

Catherine gives a strong blow to the attacker, causing the spine to recoil out of the way. Her sword cuts the attacker’s arm. But, in landing a blow, she leaves herself open, and this allows for the Sword to coil back to cut back. The Sword glows with the strike, and the attacker’s wound closes quickly on its own.

Annette can only stare in horror at the scene. She has seemingly given up, and thus does not resist when she is the next to have the Sword bite into her. Claude tries to run, to where she doesn’t know, but the Sword is faster.

Nine are dead, and she wishes there would be no more casualties.

“I’ll kill you!” pierces the silence that had been left with the massacre, and she can only watch as a wild-eyed Dimitri charges at the attacker, spear in hand.

“No, you fool, run. Just run. Please.” Its no use, a Sword cannot speak.

“Why?” is what she wishes she could say as the tenth falls.

She wishes she didn’t know who was holding the sword. But she is not a person right now. She can see in all directions, from the stone set into the hilt of the Sword. She watched as Byleth cut through her students, her friends, her allies. With the same blank expression she once constantly held during her days as a mercenary.

The Ashen Demon.

Nemesis.

Byleth.

\-------

This was the first time in a very long time Byleth had a nightmare like this. Not since her early childhood.

Clearly a result of her father dying and becoming one with the Goddess whom had been living in her head. Too much has happened in the last few months.

Sleep does not feel welcoming, so she decides it better to go train her sword arm until she simply passes out. She knows she can’t go without sleep. She remembers a past nightmare. One she has not had in many years. The one where she died. Her father said no one would hurt her in her sleep while he was around. His words had kept the nightmares away. Kept her from hurting herself.

Well… he is gone now. No one to protect her from herself anymore.

With a loud crack, one of the arms of the training dummy falls off. Byleth is out of breath, but its not enough. She needs to pass out from exhaustion. That feels the only way she is going to sleep now.

“Professor?” Byleth whips around, sword in hand, stance ready to deal with whomever was there. She quickly lowers her sword, however, seeing Dimitri in the entrance way to the training grounds.

“Dimitri? What are you doing up? It’s way past curfew.”

“I could certainly ask you the same question, but I simply couldn’t sleep. So, I thought the night air might help, but then I heard sounds from the training ground and…” Dimitri trails off. “Can you not sleep as well?”

“Its fine. I’m fine,” she lies. Don’t tell him. He doesn’t need to know what is wrong. He _really_ doesn’t need to know. “Just a silly nightmare, I’ll be fine.” She can’t stop herself.

Dimitri blinks at her, and Byleth can’t read his expression. Not that she has ever been good at reading them.

“You… you don’t have to dismiss your nightmares. I know all too well how terrible they can be…” He trails off again. Byleth feels like she messed up.

“Dimitri, I’m sorry. I, in no way, meant to dismiss your nightmares or anything. Just mine. Mine are pretty ridiculous.” She just wants him to leave. So she doesn’t have to think about the nightmare. So she doesn’t have to think about the look on Dimitri’s face when she killed him.

He doesn’t leave. “I told you this before. I don’t think it’s a sign of strength to just keep moving forward no matter what. I… I know what its like to be haunted by events that you had no control over.” Oh, he doesn’t know how close that hits to the nightmare. “But I want you to know that I am here for you.” Byleth can see his eyes widen for a moment, before he speaks again. “As are the rest of your students. As are plenty of the Knights as well, I am certain of that.”

Byleth can’t help the small smile that grows at his words, and in the bright moonlight, she thinks she can see him smile back. He did say he enjoyed her smile. It is at this when her training session and the hour seem to catch up to her, and she can feel her legs give out underneath her. Dimitri rushes forward to catch her.

“Are you all right?” He asks, concern blatant on his face. She feels bad for worrying him.

“’m fine. Tired.” His worry softens at that. She can feel one of Dimitri’s arms curl around her back, and then the other to her legs, and soon she finds herself being carried by her student. Oh, she hopes Seteth is still fast asleep, this is very improper.

“Well, Professor, I hope you are all right with me carrying you back to your quarters, for I fear you wouldn’t make it on your own with how tired you look now.” Such a gentleman. His future Queen will be very lucky.

“’s fine. Hope no one sees you. People will talk.”

“And we can simply tell them the truth.” Byleth holds herself from laughing.

“’kay.” Byleth allows herself to rest her head against Dimitri’s shoulder, and the next moment she opens her eyes, it is morning, and she is in her bed, feeling more rested than she has in a while. But, also quite late to class.

\-------

\-------

\-------

The sensation is strange. One would think it would be painful, being taken apart. But, as she is already dead, she supposes that is why she feels no pain. But she can still feel.

Her body feels too big to be hers. Too foreign. At the same time, she knows it is herself. Her other self, the one at the Beginning. Tiny blades cut through her skin, into her bones, and carve out her unbeating heart. The Stone being moved gives her the sensation of also being moved. From her place in the stone, she can see her bones being removed from her body, and watches as they are slowly shaped into a blade. Feels as she is set into the blade. Her new body.

After that, the only thing she ever feels is the moment someone else dies. Her Children, humans, animals, it matters not. To be touched by her is to die.

Seiros is the exception. It is she whom wrests the Sword from its wielder’s hands. She watches as Seiros stabs the man repeatedly and can feel as Seiros presses the sword against her face, hands still stained with the former wielder’s blood.

“Mother…”

“I’m sorry,” is what she wishes she could say.

\-------

Byleth feels her body being shaken, perhaps not as gently as one should, and opens her eyes to a very worried Dimitri. Her face feels wet.

“Forgive me, but you were crying,” is the explanation Dimitri gives, before he wraps his arms around her and pulls her to his chest. Byleth likes hearing his heartbeat. Its calming. She remembers the first time Dimitri rested his head against her chest, before bolting back up when this sound was missing. She felt so bad for worrying him like that. He didn’t rest his head against her chest again after that.

“It was just a nightmare,” she responds after a moment. She hated how often she was having this one. But, she at least prefers it over the one where she kills her friends.

“They are becoming more frequent,” Dimitri responds back, stroking her hair. If she was a cat, which sometimes she certainly wished she was one of the cats wandering the monastery as they don’t have to deal with nobles and clergymen, she would be purring.

“I don’t like worrying you so much.”

“My worry is out of love, I assure you. Considering how much I must have worried you during the war, it is only fair.”

They stay like this for a while, and Byleth can hear Dimitri’s breathing slow, about to fall asleep again. But she wants to ask him something before that.

“Dimitri?”

“Yes, beloved?” Dimitri responds, slightly slurred. She feels bad for keeping him up.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“It’s a bit silly.”

“Doesn’t matter…” he trails off into a yawn. She can’t help but smile.

“Promise me that you wouldn’t let anything happen to me while I sleep.”

There is a pause. Byleth wonders for a moment if he did fall asleep.

“…I promise. You will always wake up safe and sound.”

Byleth can feel exhaustion go through her once he is done. She yawns, about to fall asleep, saying one last thing before allowing it to take her.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, you know that scene at the beginning of the game with Seiros and Nemesis fight? If this is a memory of Sothis', then that means she experienced the memory as the Sword of the Creator. Sounds terrible, so I needed to make it worse. Also reincarnation is a bitch.


End file.
